


Contracts

by accidentallyonpurpose



Series: Lot in life [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Biting, Collar, Contracts, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom/sub, Fluff and Smut, Kink Negotiation, Kink Shaming, M/M, Negotiations, Praise Kink, Safeword discussion, Scratching, Smut, Spanking, but john tells sherlock off for it, male corset, mentions of different kinks, sex between greg and mycroft, there will be no surprises in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7970692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallyonpurpose/pseuds/accidentallyonpurpose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John go down a kink checklist. Lucky for Greg, he and Mycroft filled theirs out beforehand so he gets a treat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contracts

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't posted here in a while, life has been hectic but awesome. I finished a University degree, went to Disneyworld and moved across the country. I'm finally settled, so hopefully I'll be posting a little more regularly. This chapter takes place roughly between Chapters 5 and 6 of You' Don't Choose Your Lot in Life, after both couples' first therapy sessions. Thank you so much for reading!

“Feeding?”  
“Two point five,” Sherlock said.  
“Gags?” John asked.  
“Four,” Sherlock was tapping away at his phone. It was held precariously over his face as he lay on the sofa, head in John’s lap. At their first therapy session, the therapist had handed John what he called a ‘limits list’, a long checklist of activities often found in dom/sub relationships. Even though this list was based off of relationships between unmodified adults, it provided a strong basis for discussions between couples. They had been sitting on the sofa for twenty minutes already and Sherlock had been steadily giving curt answers. John made notes diligently on the paper- although Sherlock didn’t know it, they would be going over the list again to discuss each answer once they were done going through it.  
“Sherlock, what are you doing on your phone?” John asked finally, irritated that Sherlock wasn’t paying attention.  
“Four,” Sherlock said distractedly, fingers tapping for a few more seconds on his phone before his eyes widened and flicked to John. “four…seeing the future. It is dull,” Sherlock said in a monotone.  
“That’s enough,” John snapped, snatching the phone out of Sherlock’s hand and tucking it between his back and the back of the sofa. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously?” he asked, exasperated.  
“Because I don’t see why it is important,” Sherlock cried, throwing his hands out above his head. “I trust you,” he continued, looking into John’s eyes. “You know what’s best, I’m sure. Plus, hasn’t it been written into your DNA to tell me what to do? What does it matter what I like and don’t?”  
John, already frustrated by Sherlock’s stubbornness, felt himself grow more irate. “No, that’s the whole point! I mean, they’ve tried to write that into the DNA, but we don’t know if they’ve succeeded. And even if they have, that’s basics. It still changes person to person. This is a way to make this more pleasurable for you, and to ensure both your and my safety, Sherlock. Take it seriously, for God’s sake!”  
Sherlock sighed. “What are you going to do about it?” he asked, half a challenge and half an actual question.  
“Well, since we haven’t ironed out limits yet, your punishment will be that we will start at the beginning of the list again, and you will repeat each item that I say and then give me an honest number. Am I clear?”  
Sherlock gave in, knowing John was right. He was always right. “Yes, John.”  
“Should we go over what each number means again?”  
“Maybe.”  
John heaved a put-upon sigh and hefted the paper. “Okay. A hard limit, or something that you will not do under any circumstances, is represented by a ‘no’. A zero indicates you have utterly no desire to do the activity and don’t like doing it, and would ordinarily object to it, but you would permit the Dominant to do it if they really wanted it. Sometimes referred to as a ‘soft limit’. One means you don’t want to do or like to do the activity, but wouldn’t object if it was asked of you. Two means you are willing to do the activity, but it has no special appeal to you. Three means you usually like doing the activity, at least on an irregular or occasional basis. Four means you like doing the activity, and would like to experience it on a regular basis. Five means the activity is a wild turn-on for you, and you would like it as often as possible.” John put the paper down by his side and locked eyes with Sherlock, brushing some of the hair off of his forehead. “Now, can you repeat those back to me, please?”  
“No means never, a.k.a. a hard limit. Zero means I don’t like it but would do it if you really wanted to, a.k.a. soft limit. One means I’ll do it if you ask. Two means I’ll do it but it doesn’t have any particular positive effect on me. Three means I like it occasionally. Four means I like it and would like to experience it regularly. Five means it is incredibly pleasurable to me.”  
“Very good. Now to start the list again.” John lifted the list once more, picking up his pen from beside him on the sofa. “Abrasion.”  
“Abrasion, two.”  
John noted it on the paper. “Age play.”  
“Age play, two.”  
“Anal sex.”  
“Anal sex, four point five.”  
Strictly speaking there weren’t supposed to be points, but Sherlock was giving each item thought so John let it slide.  
“Anal plugs, small.”  
“Anal plugs, small, three point five.”  
“Anal plugs, large.”  
“Anal plugs, large, three.”  
“Anal plugs, public, under clothes.”  
“Anal plugs, public, under clothes, four.”  
This continued along the same way for almost half the list.  
“Forced Homosexuality.”  
“I think if it’s forced, we’ve got a larger problem,” Sherlock said, smiling at John.  
“Yes, I think this is a standard list, which includes items for women and heterosexual couples.” John chuckled and put down the pen, running his now free hand through Sherlock’s hair.  
“How about a break?” he asked, scratching Sherlock’s scalp lightly.  
“Tea?” Sherlock asked hopefully.  
“Yes, we can have tea. And chocolate biscuits. Because you’re being so good.”  
Sherlock sat up at the wordless tap on the top of his head. Smiling, he watched as John bustled into the kitchen, reaching for his phone that had fallen from between John’s back and the back of the sofa. He tapped happily on his phone until John returned.  
John put the mugs down on the coffee table and placed the plate of biscuits straight in Sherlock’s lap. “Eat up,” he said, resting his arm along the back of the sofa. Sherlock took a biscuit and popped it into his mouth, leaning into John. Humming happily, he leaned forward and took a sip of tea, putting the plate of biscuits on the table.  
“Continuing on?” Sherlock asked, eager to be done with the tedious task.  
“Sure,” John said, taking a sip from his tea and put it on the table, picking up the list and pen once more.  
“Forced masturbation.”  
“Forced masturbation, three point five.”  
“Forced Nudity in private.”  
“Forced Nudity in private, four.”  
“Forced nudity around others.”  
“Forced nudity around others, one. I would do it in front of Greg and Mycroft, but only if you really wanted it. I would not do it around anyone else, and it is not something that I find attractive or arousing.”  
“I would only do it as a form of extreme punishment, and we would talk about it extensively first, but I don’t see it ever coming up,” John said.  
“That is acceptable,” Sherlock replied. “Next.”  
John took a moment to write out what had just been discussed.  
“Ummm… Forced servitude.”  
“Well I enjoy servitude for certain amounts of time, but it depends what kind.”  
“Hold on, I think there’s a list of different kinds of service down near the bottom… Ah yes, here we go. So, serving as art.”  
“Serving as art, two.”  
“Serving as ashtray.”  
“Seeing as you don’t smoke, I would say that’s irrelevant, but it’s a zero either way.”  
“Okay, serving as furniture. That could include me sitting on you, and me using you to put things on, like a table.”  
“Serving as furniture, three. Either as a chair or table.”  
“Why is it you like serving so much?” John asked, putting his pen down and running his hand through Sherlock’s hair beside him.  
“I like to feel useful, hard as it is to believe,” Sherlock said frankly.  
“It’s not that hard to believe,” John answered, pulling away so that he could look at Sherlock fully. “I mean, you helped that D.I. without asking for anything in return.”  
Sherlock hummed, shrugging and putting his head back on John’s shoulder. “Continue.”  
They went down the list of services, Sherlock rating them steadily. Once they were done, they went back to where they had left off in the list and went down from there.  
“Force-feeding.”  
“No, that’s a hard limit.”  
“Okay. Anything you want to talk about?”  
“My food intake was monitored as a child,” Sherlock said. “I’m not sure if it was part of the experiment, or just my parents being anal, but because of it I’ve always been self-conscious of what and how I eat.”  
“Thank you for telling me that, Sherlock. That was very strong and brave of you.”  
Sherlock grunted and nuzzled further into John’s neck.  
“Continuing on,” John said, hefting the list once more. They worked their way further down the list.  
“Knifeplay. This one’s a hard limit for me, love, same as gunplay,” John said to Sherlock, who had ended up with his head back in John’s lap. “No particular reason, I just don’t like the idea.”  
“Okay,” Sherlock said, shrugging. “I like the idea of the thrill of it, but I’m sure we can find that thrill somewhere else.”  
“Thank you for understanding, love. Ready to move on to the next one?”  
“Yes, John.”  
“Leather clothing.”  
“Leather clothing is a three on me but a five one you.”  
“Good to know. I’m not all that into leather, but I’ll see what I can do. Leather restraints?”  
“Leather restraints are a five. Most definitely.”  
John chuckled at his exuberance. “I’ll look into buying us a pair as soon as possible, then.”  
“Appreciated,” Sherlock said.  
“Lectures for misbehavior.”  
Sherlock sighed. “I do not like being punished, as a general rule,” Sherlock said.  
John barked out a laugh. “And yet I have a feeling it will happen often.”  
Sherlock grumbled for a moment. “Well if I must get punished, that is one way I don’t object to,” Sherlock said. “It is not something I enjoy, however. I would put it at a one.”  
“Thank you for your honesty,” John said.  
“Yes well, I figure it’s best not to lie. If you found out, you would punish me and since we are literally discussing, among other things, ways for you to punish me, I thought that honesty would be the best policy.”  
“My smart boy,” John said, leaning over to kiss Sherlock on the forehead.  
“Yes, well,” Sherlock said, going slightly red. “What’s next?”  
“Lingerie,” John said.  
Sherlock spluttered out a laugh. “Who would find a man in lingerie attractive? What man would want to wear it?” Sherlock asked on a chuckle.  
“Hey, there are people out there who like that,” John said seriously, pushing Sherlock into a sitting position. “Just because it’s not your kink doesn’t mean you get to mock it. Hell, you and I have different kinks, but you don’t mock me for mine, do you?”  
“No, John.”  
“And what if that was one of my kinks that you mindlessly mocked? Then what?”  
“Then I would apologize profusely. It’s not one of your kinks, is it?”  
“No, lucky for you. That doesn’t mean you can make fun though.”  
“Yes, I’m sorry, John. Although I have to say, as far as your first lecture for misbehavior, you have done quite admirably.”  
John laughed darkly. “Oh trust me, that was nothing. You would know if you were being lectured.” He paused for a moment, softening. “You are forgiven, though. Of course. Thank you for apologizing.”  
“M hm.” Sherlock rested his head once more on John’s shoulder, throwing his arm around John’s waist.  
“Okay, let’s do this,” John said, placing his arm on top of Sherlock’s.  
Diligently they worked at it and, an hour later, they were finally done.  
“Alright, a few more things. Safeword.”  
“Traffic light system,” Sherlock replied readily. “Red for stop, yellow for pause or slow down, and green for go.”  
“That works for me.” John wrote it down. “This one you won’t like as much,” John warned, keeping a calming hand in Sherlock’s hair. “I’d like to discuss ground rules around eating and sleeping.”  
“But John,” Sherlock started to whine.  
“Nope. Now, I propose a required five hours of sleep every night and at least two meals and one snack a day.”  
“Three hours of sleep, one meal and one snack,” Sherlock rebutted.  
“Alright, so we’ve agreed on four hours of sleep and two meals a day,” John said decisively. Sherlock sighed but acquiesced. He knew John was only being this stubborn because he cared about his health. “And thank you for taking this seriously, Sherlock. It means a lot to me.”  
“Well, it is what will become the foundation of our relationship, in a way. Best to get my two cents in while I can.”  
“And we can always revisit if we need to,” John reminded him.  
“Of course.” Sherlock nuzzled into John’s neck. “Can we just cuddle now?”  
“Of course,” John chuckled, pulling Sherlock closer to him and sighing in contentment. 

 

Mycroft was seated in his plush leather chair, Greg knelt at his feet. They were in their apartment, Mycroft with Greg’s copy of the limit list in one hand and his copy balanced on his lap. His other hand was resting gently on the back of Greg’s neck. Their therapist had told them that they would have to write up a contract and file it with her at their next session. They had scened a few times previously, discussing what they were going to do before they did it. With a contract, that need for discussion would be lessened and would allow Mycroft to plan in advance. He had had Greg fill out the list and he filled out his own copy and then they had swapped, and they were taking the time now to go over them. Mycroft had asked Greg if he would rather sit on the couch, putting them on even ground, but Greg had insisted they do it with him kneeling at Mycroft’s feet- he claimed it grounded him.  
“Alright Gregory,” Mycroft said, pressing on the back of Greg’s neck. “I’m happy to say that most of our kinks follow the same lines. That will make things easier.”  
Greg smiled up at Mycroft. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, linking one of his hands with the one on the back of his neck.  
“And I thought, if we were both feeling up to it when we were done, we might try a little scene.”  
“I would like that a lot,” Greg said, eyes darkening.  
“Good.” Mycroft lifted Greg’s paper so that he could read from it. “First, I’d like to address the aromas portion. You said you don’t like the idea of your heart and breathing being accelerated. I respect and understand that completely, but would you be opposed to me using scented oils and incense meant to relax?”  
“I didn’t peg you for an incense kind of guy,” Greg said with a smile. “But no, I wouldn’t mind that kind of stuff. It’s more the stuff that will negatively affect me that I’m worried about.”  
“Good to know.” Mycroft took his hand back to write a note on his copy of Greg’s list. “I don’t know that I will end up using them, but it’s good to have the option.” Mycroft ran down the list once more. “As previously discussed, we will be exclusive to each other.” Greg nodded. “Now, for bathroom use control, you mention the difficulty of day-to-day activity. If we did do this type of play it would only be in a pre-planned scene that wouldn’t last more than a few hours. Some examples of what that might look like are age play where you wear a diaper, golden showers, or it could be a punishment where you’re not allowed to visit the bathroom for a certain amount of time.”  
Greg thought it over. “I’d be okay if it was a punishment, age play is something that I would be okay doing but it doesn’t really have any particular appeal. That may change in the future but as of right now…” Greg shrugged.  
“Alright. I do like the idea, but I will stick to it as a punishment for now. We can discuss at a further date if necessary.”  
“Okay.”  
“Right, next is pain. You like pain, but there’s a limit.”  
“Yeah, I like a little bit of pain but not a lot. I can tolerate it, though, which is why I said it could be used as punishment.”  
Mycroft hummed. “That is a grey area,” Mycroft said thoughtfully. “For now, I think I will save pain for pleasure until I have discerned what your threshold is. Which means that punishment will be meted out in other forms.” Mycroft examined the list once more. “You have marked boot/foot worship, being locked in cages, enemas, eye contact restrictions, forced servitude, lectures for misbehavior, orgasm denial, sensory deprivation, standing in a corner and water torture as non-violent punishments. I’ve noticed a trend of isolation, mild humiliation and extreme control as forms of punishment. Does that sound right?”  
“Yeah, that sounds right,” Greg said.  
“Perfect.” Mycroft wrote down a few more notes. “You’ve also noted a few times here that you like to feel pretty.” Mycroft smiled indulgently at Greg and raised an eyebrow. “I would very much like to help you there. That does mean that during some scenes I would choose what you wear, such as corsets or sexy clothes, which would be considered having clothes chosen for you. You have marked that as a soft limit here.”  
“I would be okay with you privately choosing clothes for scenes, but not for public wear.”  
“That is acceptable,” Mycroft said, smiling. “And I was hoping you’d say that. I may have pre-emptively bought a few things after seeing your list.”  
“Really?” Greg asked, eyes lighting up.  
“Yes. Now, that’s all I wished to discuss. Is there anything you would like to discuss or ask of my list?”  
“Nope, everything made sense.”  
“Very well. If you ever have any questions, please feel free to ask them.”  
“Yup! Now do I get to see my present?” Greg grinned up at Mycroft, and Mycroft couldn’t help but imagine Greg in a set of footie pajamas grinning up at him. They may need to have another discussion about age play soon.  
“Yes, of course,” Mycroft murmured indulgently, standing. “Wait right here,” he said.  
“Hurry back,” Greg grinned impishly. Mycroft quickly went into the other room, coming back out with a box wrapped in gold wrapping paper.  
“Here, for you,” Mycroft said, handing the box to Greg and sitting back in his chair in front of him.  
“Wow, Myc, this is more than I was expecting. I don’t have anything for you.”  
“Your reaction is gift enough,” Mycroft said. “Please just open it.”  
Without any further prompting Greg dug his fingers into the folds in the paper, gracelessly ripping the paper off and discarding it. Opening the box, Greg’s breath caught in his throat as he pulled out the male corset nestled in the box. It was a simple black affair, made of thick rich fabric and delicate whale boning, gold buckles running in a line down the front. It was an underbust, the kind that followed the line of his pectorals.  
“It’s not a waist trainer, since that is a soft limit for you,” Mycroft started. “And of course it’s only our first one. I thought I would go simple since you weren’t there to pick it out. There are thousands of styles, Gregory, you wouldn’t believe. There are ones that look like vests, and ones with shoulder straps and overbust ones. They also come in a variety of colours and fabrics. There’s really no limit.” Mycroft realized he was babbling and stopped talking, waiting for Greg to say something.  
“This is- I don’t deserve this,” Greg breathed, running his hands gently down the front of it.  
“Of course you do, don’t be ridiculous,” Mycroft said. “But look inside the box. There’s another piece.”  
Greg looked back down and pulled out the collar buried at the bottom of the box. It was stiff black satin to match the corset, with a delicate gold colored filigree weaving over it. It didn’t have a ring or any inscription- it was more a symbol of what Mycroft was offering.  
“Again, this is our first one. We can choose out another one together, but I thought this would be a good start.”  
“They’re beautiful, Mycroft,” Greg said, eyes brighter than normal as he looked back down at the gift. “Can I put them on now?” Greg asked.  
“Yes, let’s do that,” Mycroft said, standing and pulling Greg into a standing position. “Shirt and trousers off,” Mycroft told Greg, taking the corset and collar from him. “Fold them and put them on the sofa, please.” Greg hastened to do as he was told, returning to stand in front of Mycroft. “Now, hold this.” Mycroft gave one end of the corset to Greg, circling around his back and moving back to Greg’s front. Taking the side that Gregory was holding, Mycroft did the gold clasps down the front, taking his time on each one. When he was done, he rested his hands on Greg’s chest and looked into his eyes, smiling. “Gorgeous,” he said, leaning his forehead against Greg’s. He dug his fingernails lightly into Greg’s exposed chest, leaning down to kiss him. He took control of Greg’s mouth, pressing relentlessly against him. Gliding his nails up to Greg’s shoulder, he pushed forcefully down, prompting Greg to kneel.  
“May I put your collar on?” Mycroft asked in a rough voice.  
“Please,” Greg said quietly, looking up at Mycroft. Mycroft reached to his chair, where he had discarded the collar. Picking it up, he leaned forward and slipped it around the back of Greg’s neck, carefully clasping it at the front.  
“Gorgeous,” Mycroft repeated, cupping Greg’s chin in his hand and tilting his head up. “Now Greg, we are about to start a scene. Are you okay with that?”  
“Yes,” Greg said.  
“This scene will be focused on you and your pleasure. To start, I’d like you to come over here and bend over my knee.” Mycroft sat in his chair and waited patiently as Greg came and bent over Mycroft’s knee, grabbing onto his ankle. Mycroft gently repositioned him so that Greg’s cock was rubbing against his leg. “Because this is our first time doing this, I will only be giving you fifteen. I expect you to count and thank me.”  
“Yes, Mycroft.” Greg’s grip on Mycroft’s ankle got tighter. Mycroft let the first one fall with no warning.  
“One, thank you,” Greg said around a gasp.  
Mycroft let the next fall. “Two, thank you,” Greg said.  
Mycroft let the next one fall harder than the first two. “Three, thank you,” Greg said. By seven, he was speaking through clenched teeth and by eleven his fingernails were digging into Mycroft’s ankle.  
“Twelve thank you,” Greg ground out, burying his face into the side of his arm.  
“Almost there,” Mycroft encouraged. He let the next one land.  
“Thirteen, thank you,” Greg growled.  
Mycroft let the last two fall, barely pausing between the two.  
“Fourteen thank you, fifteen thank you,” Greg breathed out, running the words together.  
“You did so well, Gregory,” Mycroft praised, pulling Greg upwards and grabbing his legs so that he was straddling Mycroft on the big plush chair, practically sitting in his lap. “Now, I want you to put your hands on my shoulders and don’t let go.” When Greg had done it, Mycroft leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “If you don’t let go, I’ll let you come.” He bit Greg’s earlobe as one hand reached for his nipple, the other one tripping down the corset and into his pants. Gripping Greg’s cock, Mycroft grabbed the hard length gently, teasing his hand up and down his length. “Do you think you could come like this?” Mycroft asked, sucking hard into the side of Greg’s neck as he gently brushed his hand once more up and down Greg’s shaft. “Just my fingers ghosting up and down your length, me biting and pinching you.” Mycroft sunk his teeth into the meat between Greg’s neck and shoulder, moving his hand from his nipple into his hair. “What if I pull on your hair? Will that tip you over the edge?” Mycroft suddenly grasped Greg’s length firmly, twisting his hand around the head of his cock and spreading the pre-cum he found there. “Or maybe you need it quick and rough, will that get you there? Hm?” He tugged relentlessly on Greg’s hair and cock, crushing their lips together and nipping at Greg’s lower lip. “Are you going to come for me?” Mycroft asked, nipping at Greg’s earlobe again. “Are you getting close? Look at all that pre-cum, you’re so wet for me Greg, you look so gorgeous coming apart on my lap for me, come on now, let go, you can do it.” Mycroft raked his finger nails back down from Greg’s scalp to his chest and scratched over his nipple. “Come for me, Gregory.” He jerked Greg relentlessly until with a cry he came, spilling into Mycroft’s hand. Mycroft worked him through his orgasm, sealing their lips and drinking Greg’s moans down. When he was finished, Greg rested his forehead against Mycroft’s shoulder, panting and sweaty. Mycroft wiped his hand on Greg’s pants, silently promising to wash them later.  
“Oh my god,” Greg breathed shakily. “That was possibly the best orgasm I have ever had in my life. Thank you so much.”  
Mycroft chuckled gently. “It was honestly my pleasure, my dear.” Mycroft slid his hand to the back of Greg’s head and cradled it against his shoulder.  
“Do you want me to take care of you?” Greg asked after a moment.  
“No. Let us just rest here. Are you comfortable?”  
“Very,” Greg sighed, wrapping his arms around Mycroft’s neck and his legs around his waist. Mycroft felt Greg’s muscles relax as he tucked his head into the crook of Mycroft’s neck. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Greg started getting cold and sticky.  
“Can we have a shower?” Greg asked eventually, not pulling his face out of Mycroft’s neck.  
“Of course,” Mycroft smiled at Greg’s dopey tone. He was clearly in subspace, if only a light one. “Come on, up we get,” Mycroft prompted, lightly tapping Greg on the bum to get him moving. Groaning, Greg clambered off of Mycroft’s lap, but glued himself to Mycroft once he was standing. Together, they made their way to the washroom where Mycroft carefully undressed Greg, placing the corset and collar to the side and throwing Greg’s pants in the laundry hamper. He then quickly undressed himself. “In we go,” Mycroft said, helping Greg into the shower and propping him against the wall. Turning up the hot water, Mycroft let the steam fill the shower as he ran his hands carefully down Greg’s chest. He lathered up a flannel and ran it efficiently over Greg’s body, washing the dried semen off of Greg’s cock and stomach. Greg stood boneless against the wall, grinning loosely at Mycroft.  
“You’re the best,” he murmured, watching Mycroft through half-lidded eyes.  
“I know,” Mycroft said, grinning at Greg and kissing him sweetly on the lips. “And now I think it is time for bed.”  
“Okay,” Greg said pliantly, letting himself be helped out of the shower, dried off and led into the bedroom. Mycroft pulled back the sheets, allowing Gregory to crawl naked. He crawled in next to him, wrapping his arms securely around Greg.  
“G’night,” Greg sighed, wrapping his arm around Mycroft’s.  
“Goodnight.”

**Author's Note:**

> I did up the actual kink lists for each couple in an excel spreadsheet which I may upload here one day. If there's anything else you'd like to see in this universe, please leave a comment letting me know.


End file.
